Admire, Love, Sink
by TheTime-TellingRaven
Summary: Mina Brzenska-Carolina is a First Class passenger aboard the RMS Titanic. What will happen when she finds love in a rogue Third Class passenger?
1. Prlg: The Discovery and Back to Titanic

The ocean was dark, plain and simply. Slowly, two small lights lit up the navy waters, sending small fish scurrying for cover. The lights roved looking for their objective. The submersibles kept falling until they hit the sea floor, two hours after first dropping. Inside of one, known as the Sina One, three men jolt to attention. One is Eren Yeager, a marine tragedy journalist and marine archeologist; another is Armin Arlert, an esteemed scientist studying shipwrecks; and the third is Connie Springer, the submarine's engineer.

"We're here," Connie grunts, Southern accent thick from drowsiness.

Armin walked to the sonar screens and watched carefully as Sina One scuttled along the water, lighting its way. A large, oddly-shaped object soon became visible. Connie piloted the submarine from the floor, face against his viewpoint.

"She's just a few meters to the left. Do you see her?" Armin exclaimed, voice light from sleep and discovery.

"Where do you se-oh, there she is." The Sina One kept trucking towards its destination. "There she is, same as she was back then; she sure has aged well."  
They approached the railing of the broad bow of the ship, gliding over it easily. Eren came up to inspect the screens.

"I never get tired of seeing her..."

"Why? Because you're a thief?"

Eren held a camera in front of his face. "N-no, shut up!" He returned his gaze to the great ship, camera still poised in his hand. "I was going to say I never get tired of seeing her because of her story, her emotion... How she sank on April 15, 1912, on her maiden at 2:30 in the morning..."

"Eren, you're full of it," Armin mumbled, returning his focus to the sister submersible, Rose One. She dove down the starboard side of the ship while Sina One continued to inspect the forecastle deck, chains for anchors and caps in pristine shape. The _Titanic_ was much bigger than she looked.

"Well, here we are, over two miles below the surface and enough pressure in the water to kill us in no time flat. This is our fifth time down here. Honestly, it never gets old seeing the _Titanic_ like this..." Eren spoke to the camera.

The Sina and Rose continued their voyage, and eventually came to rest. The Sina landed on the deck house roof, and the Rose landed near the Captain's Quarters.

"Alright, let's get started," Eren concluded, walking back to Armin and Connie.

"Of course," Armin stated, grasping a joystick and donning goggles to control a robot-like camera, the Maria. The petite, red and blue cylinder glided towards the interior of the ship. "We are a go."

"Perfect."

The Maria swam through a small hole that was once the esteemed Grand Staircase of First Class. She kept going down and made her way into the First Class Reception area, and she continued on to view the ornate wooden carvings, a grand piano old and broken, and a chandelier smashed against the floor. Maria observed a woman's shoe, Scouting Legion Line porcelain, and a child's forgotten doll. She continued down a hallway, doors and sconces still attached, a reverie of a time long forgotten. The Maria entered a room marked B-52 and headed for the bedroom labeled B-54.

"Alright, here we go," Armin said, voice wavering with anxiousness and excitement.

"Be careful, and don't screw this up," Eren hissed back.

"I'll try..." Armin responded. He drove the Maria towards the bedroom and observed the fireplace and desk on the way. She glided into the sleeping chamber softly, dust settling against the headlights. The large bed in the center of the bedroom had long since withered away in the harsh climate.

"Head to that closet; I want to see what's inside," Eren ordered, sleepiness long gone as Maria slowly made her way to the rusted antique. "Be careful, Armin, she's fragile enough, as is."

Armin exhaled as he guided the arms of the Maria to cautiously open the door of the furniture.

"Oh, my god..." all three men whispered breathlessly as the lights of the robot shone on an old safe, rust covering the exterior.

'This...is actually happening...' Eren thought.

* * *

The daylight shone on the surface of the Colossal, the main research vessel of the _Titanic_ embarkments team. The safe dropped unceremoniously onto the deck, metal soaked and covered in rust and barnacles. Several people stood on watching as the safe was recovered, among them Eren, Armin, and Connie, and also a platinum-headed museum exhibitionist named Mylius Zeramuski, who was looking to invest in the funding. A news crew was also nearby.

"Are we on?" Eren asked the nearest cameraman.

"Yep, whenever you're ready."

"Open 'er up," Eren commanded. Cautiously, a technician crew started to cut the hinges of the safe. "Alright, moment of truth time. Have we really found what we've been searching for for God knows how long?"

The safe was slowly - almost agonizingly so - pulled open, and what was found inside was disappointing to say the least.

"Crap!" Eren exclaimed; all that was in it were pieces of paper, aged with water damage.

* * *

The papers were put into water within the Colossal's lab to separate them safely. Mylius was on the phone with the other investors, and Eren was pacing the floor like a caged animal.

"Eren, the others are worried.." Mylius stated, words carefully picked as to not send the eccentric man further off the edge.

"Dang it, hand me the phone, Zeramuski!" the brunet replied, voice louder than anticipated. Mylius handed him the phone readily. "Hello? Yes, this is he; yes, I know that it wasn't in the safe, but..."

"Eren?" Armin began, voice laced with an uncertain tone. "You might what to see this..."

The green-eyed male walked to the table where the shorter blond man was recovering papers from the safe. On the top one was a charcoal drawing of a nude young woman with dark hair and a radiant smile. She wore a pendant around her neck, and the shape vaguely resembled a feather. The initials MB were hastily written at the bottom. Needless to say, the picture was beautiful. Armin held up a picture of a pendant matching the girl's beside the portrait.

"A perfect match..." he whispered.

"Well send me down the river..." Eren remarked.

* * *

A news broadcast was playing on the television set. The announcer spoke of the recent discoveries of the _Titanic_ by Eren Yeager and his team. An elderly woman sat in a chair by the window, listening. This type of news always piqued her interest.

"Annie, would you turn that up?" the woman asked. A younger, blonde woman came in and did as she requested.

"...many call you a thief, Mr. Yeager," the woman on the screen stated.

The young man at her side chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. And, besides, my team are experts, and we've recently discovered a beautiful drawing." The picture on the screen seemed to ripple with life in the water. "And it's fully intact."

The old woman stared in amazement, dark eyes fixated on the screen. Annie also seemed surprised.

"Well send me down the river..."

* * *

It was late at night when Mylius ran up to Eren, the Sina and Rose being prepared to ship out again. He was out of breath.

"What do you want now, Zeramuski? Can't you see we're busy?"

"Yes, and trust me, it's for a good reason."

The two men walked into the preservation lab, and Mylius handed Eren the phone and nodded. "You'll want to take this."

"Hello? Yes, this is Eren Yeager, who am I speaking to?"

"Mina Wagner, if you please," the elderly voice on the other end of the line stated. "I was calling to ask if you had found the Wing of the Water yet?"

Eren almost stopped breathing. He looked to Mylius, who simply smiled in return. "Alright, Mina, what do you know about the picture?"

The woman chuckled softly. "Why, the girl in the photo...is me, Mr. Yeager."

* * *

A roaring helicopter approached the Colossal Research Vessel; Mina and Annie were sitting inside. Both regarded at the Colossal fondly; it certainly lived up to its name.

Armin and Mylius watched the Sina and Rose being prepared for their next voyage. Connie approached soon after.

"That woman will be a liar; I can feel it!" Connie exclaimed, accent adding a lilt to his harsh words.

"Well, here's our chance to find out," Mylius remarked, turning to face the large machine.

"So, she said her name was Mina - then Brzenska-Carolina - Wagner, right? She would have to be almost one hundred and one years old by now!" Armin added, voice uncertain.

"Exactly! It's also said that she died at seventeen, on the _Titanic_ ," Connie responded. "She's a liar."

"Well, not exactly. Mina Brzenska-Carolina died on the ship; Mina Wagner was a famous ballet dancer."

"Look, she's the only connection we have to the Wing of the Water, right? That means be nice, no matter who she is," Eren chipped in, walking slowly towards the landing pad.

* * *

The helicopter landed securely on board the Colossal, and a wheelchair-bound Mina was lowered gingerly. Annie stepped out behind, and five suitcases were deposited.

"I think I'll go and check on Sina and Rose," Connie chirped, before walking away briskly.

* * *

Annie was putting away belongings, and Mina was dusting off old pictures when Eren and Armin approached them.

"So, how do you find the room?" Eren asked, a smile glinting in his voice and face.

"Oh, it's fine, thank you, Mr. Yeager," Mina responded, a gentle smile gracing her aged visage.

"Is there anything you need, Mrs. Wagner?"

"Yes; I would like to see my drawing."

* * *

Mina stared at the portrait in the water, her eyes sweeping across every detail. She remembered trained eyes sketching out everything, and having to lay there for hours. She sighed contentedly as she reminisced.

Eren held up a picture of the pendant. "The Wing of the Water, made for the royal Reiss family of Stohess, specifically for the king's daughter, Historia."  
Mina laughed softly. "It was quite heavy, too. This was the only time I ever wore it."

"This is really you, Nanna?" Annie said, her eyes fixated on the water-bound portrait.

"Quite the catch, wasn't I?"

"Records say it was purchased privately by a very rich man; do you know his name?" Armin asked, gazing at Mina.

"Auruo Bossard, I would say, for his brother, Daz."

"Your fiancee, as an engagement present."

"The date on this picture...is April 14, 1912..." Annie murmured.

"Precisely; the very same day the _Titanic_ sank."

"And, Mrs. Wagner, anything you can tell us that will lead to its recovery will be compensated for," Eren chimed.

Mina sighed again. "I don't want anything in return, Mr. Yeager."

"Nothing?"

"Well, I would like my drawing..."

"Of course."

The four crossed the room to a table load out with multiple objects. "These all came from your staterooms..."

Mina lifted a mirror engraved with a crossed sword pattern. "I can't believe it still looks this good. I certainly don't, though." She picked up a beautiful brooch of a rose. "This was my mother's... The only thing she didn't want to leave behind was this..." she laughed humorlessly. Her hands finally settled on a unicorn hair comb. Her wordless reverie was enough to tell a thousand stories.

"Well, Mina, are you ready to go back to _Titanic_?"

* * *

They turned to face several cameras on the far wall, each holding an image of the ship. Mina stared intently at one that held the bow railing.

Armin smiled gently. "I can pull up a simulation, if you'd like..."

Annie turned the wheelchair to face Armin's computer screen.

"Armin, she might not-" Connie began.

"No! No, please, I...I want to see her again..."

Armin talked in time with the animation. "Okay, so we know she hit an iceberg on her starboard side, and compartments are filling rapidly, making the bow sink and the stern rise. Of course, this gets faster as time goes on; the bow can't support this weight, so she splits straight down the middle. Even though the stern is level again, the force of the bow's impact causes the stern to rise vertically before sinking into the water, two hours and forty minutes later.  
"The bow eventually hits the bottom about half a mile away from the site, and the stern splits apart from the impact."

"Hmm, thank you for that, Mr. Arlert, but it certainly felt different."

"Will you tell us, Mrs. Wagner?" Eren questioned.

Mina's dark, vivid eyes scanned each screen carefully. Her visage explained her emotions perfectly, the perfect image of sorrow in reminiscence. Her wise eyes stung with hot tears. She placed a hand over her mouth in a silent attempt to muffle her quiet sobs, memories flashing like a wildfire.

"I'm taking her back to the room," Annie stated, starting to wheel her away.

"No, Annie!" Mina exclaimed, her voice strong and clear, and her eyes fierce.

"Please, Mina..." Eren mumbled.

"It's been eighty-four years..."

"Try to remember-" Mina held up her left hand, revealing a small scar across her palm.

"It's been eighty-four years...and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in..." Eren set a recorder near her; he knew it would be a long story. " _Titanic_ was called the 'Ship of Dreams'. And it was... It really was..."

The submersibles' cameras panned to show the bow railing, as if it heard its story being told. It almost felt like a shift in time, like being back in 1912...


	2. Chapter 1: The Boarding

A young, dark-haired woman with sharp eyes peered wide-eyed out of the horse-drawn carriage as it approached the Trost Harbor. Her widowed mother sat next to her, a platinum blonde woman with a stoic expression. Her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose. A young man with a pre-aged face sat across from them, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched the brunette.

"Mina, I don't see why you're surprised by all of this. You've seen a shipyard before," her fiancee, Daz Bossard, chided, a hint of humorless laughter in his voice.

Mina turned her head to glance at her fiancé over her shoulder. "And I don't see why you can't seem to understand my love of the sea."

Her mother, Rico Brzenska-Dietrich, laughed. "You're so much like your father; stubborn and independent."

Mina returned her gaze to the window and sighed dreamily. "No matter how many times I see the ships and smell the saltwater, it's always enchanting..."

* * *

The carriage lurched to a stop at the boat dock, ready to disband its six passengers. Mina exited first, collecting her navy skirts and stepping down with unpracticed grace. Daz stepped down afterwards and extended his hand to Rico, helping her down.

Mina looked on in excitement. "There she is, the unsinkable Ship of Dreams, the _Titanic_." Her near black orbs held a level of unmatchable excitement.

"It certainly is impressive," Rico stated, gazing at the massive hull.

Daz chuckled. "God Himself could not sink this ship." His voice held a certain degree of arrogance that wasn't usually there.

Daz's manservant and close friend, Franz Kefka, stepped out of the carriage afterward, and an older woman and young woman after him, personal maids to Rico and Mina.

A Scouting Legion Line porter approached the party, his face stressed from last minute preparations. "Sir, you will have to visit the main terminal to have your bags checked.

Daz slipped five pounds into the porter's hand, watching his eyes grow large. He nodded towards Franz, "Speak to him."

The worker glanced at the man in question. Franz motioned to the trunks. "We'll have all of these and the ten others in the carriage brought to the rooms. See to it, yes?"

The Scouting Legion Line employee paled slightly at the sight. All of this? He suddenly whistled for the baggage-handlers nearby.

Daz checked his pocket watch as he walked away. "We should be going." The young, brunet man motioned towards the gangplank of First Class. As they walked toward the large throng of people lining the shipyard, Hannah Diamant-Kefka, Mina's assistant, friend, and the wife of Franz, carried her mistress' most valuable items. Franz glanced back and took a few of the heavier ones, Hannah smiling in thanks.

The group of six continued, and Mina stared doe-eyed at some of the Third Class passengers, so different from herself, being checked for lice, and a man filming his lover. She smiled softly at the sight.

Mina heard her mother's small "Oh!" as a couple of children and their father jostled Daz. The male scoffed in response.

"Honestly," Rico began, distaste in her voice, "if we weren't late we would already have cleared the terminal."

Daz chuckled in response. "By any means, it as your daughter's fault that we're late."

Mina gaped. "Please, Daz, if you hadn't made me change, we wouldn't have been late!"

"Yes, because you were about to wear black; it's bad luck, you know."

"Tch, well it certainly would've matched the situation," Mina grumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes.

"Please, Mina, you act you're about to be slaughtered," her mother chided.

* * *

Mina spoke to Eren and the others, her tone showing old bitterness. "It was the ship of dreams...to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship, taking me back to Stohess in chains.

"Outwardly I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming."

* * *

The _Titanic_ 's whistle could be heard from inside the dingy pub, several meters away from the harbor. Four middle class men played a poker game in one of the dark corners. Two young men, a Belgian from Chlorba and a Frenchman from Nedlay, looked to each other as their opponents, two Germans from Hermiha, argued back and forth. Marco Bodt, the Belgian, shrugged his shoulders at his friend, Jean Kirstein, when he gave him a questioning look.

"Funny, I figured you knew German," Jean jested lightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I could have said the same to you, since you live so close to the border," Marco replied, freckled face twisting into a Cheshire Cat grin. His dark eyes shone with mirth and amusement.

The two men glanced back at the Germans opposite of them, voices still in some foreign tongue.

"Ich kann nicht glauben, Sie setzen unsere Tickets, du dummer betrunken!" one, named Samuel, hissed at his partner.

"Mich?! Du hast das Geld verloren; Ich will nur, um ihn zurückzubekommen. Nimm eine Karte und Halt die Klappe," the other, who went by the name of Nac, retorted.

Marco thought it was about time to end their scuffle, sensing a full brawl soon to come. "Nac, hand me another."

The man in question begrudgingly handed another card over. Marco's eyes betrayed no emotion as he slid it into his hand. Jean shook his head to another card and bit his lower lip. The _Titanic_ 's whistle blew again in a final warning to those not on board. The stack of money on the table also held two Third Class tickets aboard the _RMS Titanic_.

Marco chuckled, "Well, here we go; someone's headed to Stohess."

The copper blonde sitting next to him laid his hand down, shaking his head and pressing his lips into a thin line. The two brunets did the same.

Marco sighed, "Alright, let me see. Jean's got nothing; Samuel, same; oh, Nac, two pair..." He turned to his friend, "Sorry, Jean, buddy..."

Jean's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "What?! Marco, what do you have?! Je vous jure que si vous avez perdu mon argent, Marco-"

"Jean! I'm sorry, but you won't be seeing your mama for a long time, buddy! We're going to Stohess!" Marco cackled as he laid a full house down on the dirty table.

Several languages were shouted at the table: Marco in Belgian, Jean in French, and Samuel and Nac in German. Marco scooped up the winnings from the game. "Sorry, guys, three of a kind and a pair." He glanced towards Jean, "You know what that means, right?"

Jean miles so wide it looked like his face would split in two, "We're going to Stohess?"

"You're dang right that's what it means!" At that moment, Samuel balled up his fist and punched Nac straight in his nose. He had completely forgotten about Marco and Jean, who were high-fiving and getting ready to leave. "Haha! We're going to the big city, Jean!"

"Dang straight! We'll be millionaires!" He turned to the barkeeper, face full of pure joy. "I'm going to Stohess!"

"No, the _Titanic_ 's going to Stohess in five minutes," he replied.

"Crap! Jean, we've gotta go!" Marco grabbed Jean's wrist and ran out of the pub.

* * *

Marco and Jean sprinted to the harbor, everything the had in knapsacks hanging over their shoulders. They were out of breath when they arrived, but they kept going. The two pushed their way through the crowd still lingering by the terminal. They jumped over stacks of luggage and nearly plowed several people down. Several people shouted at them. Marco halted sharply when they got to the pier, eyes enlarged at the monster of a ship in front of him. "Woah..."

Jean had to go back and practically drag the taller man to the E Deck gangway at Third Class. The two arrive just as Sixth Officer Moses gave Quartermaster Eibringer the signal to release the gangplank.

"Please! We're passengers!" Marco pleads, handing him the tickets.

"Have you been through the queue?"

"Yes! We're Stohessians; both of us," the freckled boy replied, glancing to his friend.

Moses looked them over cautiously. "Yes, come aboard then.." He stepped to the side to let them enter.

"Nac, come on.." The two males practically skipped down the corridor. "Y'know what this means, Jean?"

"We're the luckiest sons of guns on the planet?!"

* * *

Jean and Marco waltzed out onto the poop deck. Marco stepped up to the railing with Jean closely following.

"What're you doing?" Jean asked his companion, amusement playing at his features.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm waving goodbye!" the freckled-faced boy answered matter-of-factly, returning his attention to his previous activity. "Goodbye! I'll miss you all!"

Jean walked beside his friend. "Do you even know these people?" he laughed.

"No, but it's fun!"

Jean chuckled to himself. "Alright, alright... Goodbye! I'll never forget you!"

Marco heartily laughed at the copper-headed boy's enthusiasm, and continued adding his own voice to the rest of the crowd's. The _Titanic_ started to move slowly through the waves.

Several calls of "So long!" and "I wish you the best!" could be heard as the ship pulled away. Jean and Marco watched with amazement as the figures grew slowly smaller.

* * *

Both of them returned to the G Deck and watched as people fought over baggage and looked at signs. Most appeared to be foreigners, just like themselves. The opened the door to their own room to find two males already in the room. The one named Tom looked up at them.

"Du bist nicht Nac."


	3. 2: Setting Sail & Spoiled Conversations

The boisterous Empire-esque suite was the picture of First Class elegance. The two bedroom labeled B 54-56 even boasted a large promenade deck for private use.

Mina admired several paintings she had brought along. Daz stood in the doorway of the deck with a glass of champagne, staring at the sea while worrying the rim of the glass with his teeth. He had always had a weak stomach.

"I don't know why you brought those, Mina, I really don't," he admitted, turning his gaze to the female.

She threw him a glance over her shoulder. "I like them."

"They weren't expensive, at the very least," he replied. His eyes shifted to a porter wheeling in his safe. "That goes in the wardrobe."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Mina walked into the bedroom where Hannah was putting away clothes. The dark haired female leaned against one of the bedposts.

"Everything's so clean," Hannah whispered, her voice softer than usual. She lifted a sheet to her nose and smelled it, if only to prove a point. "We'll be the first to sleep in them."

Daz walked in and scoffed. "And, I'll still be the first," he remarked, his milk chocolate orbs shifting to Mina. She scowled in response.

"W-well, I believe I shall take my leave, Miss," Hannah stammered, a light flush coating her cheeks, before swiftly walking out.

The brown-haired male walked up to Mina and placed his hand on her hip. She tensed under his touch. He gently nipped at her neck. "The first and only. Forever."

* * *

An eccentric young woman stepped on board the D Deck of the _Titanic_ ; one of many that filed on board in Yalkell. She grinned from ear to ear. A porter shouted her name.

"Ms. Dreyse! Ms. Dreyse!" He reached for the bags. She let him have them with a laugh.

"It's about time!" the woman, Hitch Dreyse, replied. No malice was present in her Stohessian voice, however. She simply smiled and continued on her way, a bounce on her sharp-dressed step.

* * *

Captain Erwin Smith stood at the bridge of the large ship. He turned to his companion, First Officer Levi Ackerman.

"Take her to sea, Mr. Ackerman. Let's stretch her legs."

"Aye, sir," the officer replied, walking to the telegraph lever. He pulled it to a different setting. The engine room would get it; they always did.

* * *

"All ahead full!" Chief Engineer Gelgar shouted to his men. Standing on the iron catwalk was the ship's builder, Dot Pixis. He smirked to himself as he watched the workers below adjust the valves.

'Just like a machine should be.'

* * *

Captain Smith and Officer Ackerman strode to the railing of the vessel. Levi turned his head to his superior. "She's at twenty-one knots, sir."

"Hm, she can certainly fly."

"Yes, sir, she can."

Captain Smith flickered his gaze to the officer at his other side. He held out a cup of tea. "Thank you, Officer Schultz." The man, Fifth Officer Gunther Schultz, dipped his head and walked away.

* * *

Marco and Jean stood at the bow, the wind blowing back in their faces and through their hair. "God, can't you just see it, Jean?!"

"Ouais, I can see the Statue of Sina already!... Of course, she's not much, yet!"

The two laughed and looked down at the azure ocean underneath the broad ship. Three dolphins jumped and played in the ripples of the _Titanic_ 's bow-waves. "Yessiree, I could get used to this!" Marco chimed, freckles dappled with ocean spray.

* * *

"Mr. Pixis designed her from the keel up, and here she is, the largest moving object ever built by man's own hands." The man, Managing Director of Scouting Legion Line Djel Sanes, motioned to the man sitting next to him, an older man in his early sixties. Pixis simply smiled and shook his head.

"Mr. Sanes, don't leave yourself out of this. You're the one who dreamed her up; a steamer so luxurious that she could never be matched." He rubbed the wood of the table reverently, as if to prove his point further.

Hitch snorted lightly from across the table. "Why is it that ships are always called 'she'? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?" The men at the table barked with laughter. "Guess it's either men's way or the highway."

Mina pulled a book from her bag as she sat, disinterested in the conversation. "Mina.." her mother began. Daz promptly grasped the book from his fiancee's hand and tucked it into his suit pocket. Mina glared at him with a look of disdain.

He craned his head toward the waiter. "We'll both have the Beef Sirloin, well-done with Chateau Potatoes." His eyes moved to Mina, "Beef is fine with you, right?"

Hitch's face split into a wicked grin. "You gonna hand feed her too, Daz?" she cackled. Her amber orbs flicked to Djel. "Did you come up with the name _Titanic_ , sir?"

"Actually, yes. I wanted to convey her power and size, which also includes her stability, luxury, safety, of course-"

Mina piped up, "Do you know of Dr. Yeager? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Sanes." Pixis nearly choked on his wine, thoroughly suppressing his laughter. Djel simply smiled at the young woman's opinion.

Rico looked abhorred. "My God, Mina, what's gotten into you?" Mina promptly stood and stalked away, jaw clenched and eyes boiling with fury. "I really do apologize, Mr. Pixis, Mr. Sanes, Ms. Dreyse."

"She's something else, isn't she?" Pixis murmured.

"She sure is; a pistol, really. Sure you can handle her, Daz?" Hitch added, her eyebrow cocking slightly.

"Of course. But I'll have to mind what she reads from now on."

* * *

Jean and Marco sat on a bench aboard the poop deck. Marco had a sketchbook propped against his bent knees, and his eyes occasionally flickered to the scene he was capturing. His charcoal moved almost unnoticed by bystanders, but Jean knew what he was doing. Farlan Church, an immigrant from a small town, shifted his peripheral to a crew member walking five small dogs and scowled.

"God, I really hate dogs," he sneered, Yalkell accent lilting his speech.

Marco glanced up. "I guess we know where we stand, eh?"

"How could I forget?" Farlan replied, voice embittered with distaste.

The freckled man shifted his dark eyes from his sketchbook. What he saw stilled him to say the least. She was beautiful; dark hair pinned to perfection, milky skin glowing in the light of the sun, and not to mention the hunter green dress she wore really flattered her figure. The frown on her face was misplaced, though, no creature as beautiful as her should look distraught. He watched carefully as she took off her hat, an elaborate barrage of color and feathers, and threw it into the ocean. She caught Marco's eyes; neither turned away. A man came up behind her and tugged at her arm. She pulled away and started to argue with the male. The female slapped him and walked away, stride quick and short; he followed behind, eventually disappearing onto the A Deck.

Farlan came up behind Marco. "Forget it, Marco, boy, you don't stand a chance with her; you'd sooner start puking rainbows."

* * *

Mina sat at the table, her features bored and agitated, although she tried her best not to show it. Everyone around her was laughing and talking like they had known each other for years, but not her. She couldn't care less if she tried. Her hands were beneath the table, one clutching a crab fork. She gently started to drive it into her finger, before pressing harder and harder. Eventually Mina looked down. She saw the tiniest droplets of blood beginning to form, and she smirked to herself. 'Same old show, same old debates. My life is nothing but monotonous. Expensive ships, fancy dinners, all we're missing is the polo match.'

* * *

Mina strode through the corridor and nodded towards a steward. She would not break her composure; she would not break her composure. She repeated this like a mantra.

She entered her bedroom. The woman approached the mirror on top of the vanity, before finally letting her emotions show. She dipped her head and ripped of her necklace, letting the dainty pearls fly everywhere. She viciously unpinned her hair and flung the pins across the room. Mina tore at her dress as hot tears cascaded down her cheeks, smearing the powders. Her breathing was raspy as she threw her hand mirror at the vanity, satisfied at hearing it crack.


	4. Chapter 3: A Chance Encounter

Mina ran along one of the promenade decks, tears streaming down her cheeks. She held her skirts bunched up in her hands as she ran, her fists clenched so tight she was amazed the fabric hadn't ripped. Her dark hair was disorderly, wisps free from their tight entanglement.

* * *

Marco leaned against the railing and gazed at the night sky, dark eyes scanning to see the constellations. Everything was so clear out at sea. A form bumped into his back, but before he saw who it was it was long gone. It didn't take him long to see who it had been though: the girl from before. No one else was on deck at the time. Why is she out here at this hour, let alone in such a distressed state?

* * *

Mina didn't stop running until she nearly flew into the railing of the stern of the ship, even when she tripped on the stairwell. Her breathing was hitched and ragged in the cool night air, the wind blowing her dress and hair in a multitude of directions. Without fully thinking about what she was doing, Mina hoisted her skirts up again and started to ascend the railing. It was slow and clumsy, but she finally made it over the top and down to the floor on the other side. Her pale hands were fastened to the rail as she let her arms stretch out, tipping her forward to cast her gaze onto the turbulence below. Her eyes were empty as she looked down, and she failed to notice the figure walking up behind her.

"What...are you doing?" the newcomer asked, his voice resonating on the abandoned deck. Mina turned her head sharply, taking a minute to focus.

"Why would it matter to you?" she hissed, her tear-filled eyes narrowing at the man behind her.

Marco didn't fail to notice the tear stains on her flushed cheeks. He stepped forward slowly, choosing his next words carefully. He held his left hand out. "Just take my hand; I'll pull you back in.."

"And why should I trust you? I'll jump if you take another step!"

"No, you won't," he replied. The girl's brows furrowed in confusion. He went on to explain, "If you were going to jump, you would have done it by now."

Mina wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Just go away; you're distracting me."

"You know I can't do that now; I'm involved. You jump, I jump."

"Please, you're crazy. You'll be killed." The freckled male took off his overcoat and started to roll up his sleeves while she spoke.

He looked at her with a look of mock fear as he responded. "I'm a decent swimmer."

Marco was unlacing his boots by the time she spoke again. "The fall itself would kill you."

He smiled gently. "It's not the pain I'm worried about."

"Then what are you..worried about?"

"The cold; the water's freezing at this time of year."

As he spoke, the young woman looked down at the ebony ocean below. "H-how cold?"

"Maybe a couple above freezing? At warmest."

A shudder ran through Mina's body as she stared into the Atlantic's depths, turning her head only slightly. "W-what does it feel like?"

"Like a thousand knives puncturing your body at every angle imaginable." Another chill shot down her spine. "Which is why I don't really want to jump in after you. But, if you insist on it, then so do I."

"You're insane."

"Not the first time I've heard that. But with all do respect, miss, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship."

He took a couple steps closer, hand outstretched and full of caution. His dark eyes were trained on her. "You don't really want to do this, do you?"

She turned around slowly to fully look at him. "Okay, fine, you win.." she mumbled, reaching her hand out to catch his. She cast her gaze upward to meet his. Her dark orbs widened slightly as she caught his chocolate ones. 'Wow, he's not bad looking, is he?'

The corners of his mouth quirked in relief. "I'm Marco, Marco Bodt."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bodt," Mina said, averting her eyes downward once again. Now that she thinks about it, this height is terrifying. She exhales shakily as she takes a step up to the first rail. Unfortunately, nothing could be easy. Her dress caught underneath her foot, and before she knew what was happening she was slipping on the rail entirely.

She shrieked desperately as Marco tightened his grip. His voice was gentle, calming. "Easy, easy..I won't let you fall." His muscles were straining as he finally managed to get her over the deck's railing. She fell with him in a heap, both breathing heavily.

Quartermaster Eibringer ran across the deck. "What on earth are you doing?!" He roughly pulled Marco off of Mina by the collar. From what he could tell, Marco had been all but kind to the young mistress. Two orderlies weren't far behind.

He turned his attention to the boy. "Don't you move." Turning his head to the seamen, Eibringer commanded, "Bring the Master at Arms."


End file.
